Wings of Hope
by AquilaWhite20
Summary: The Varyar are the winged protectors of Middle-Earth, immortal, skillful, deadly, and forever bound to serve Illuvatar's children until they are released into Valinor. Eterúnamë holds a dark and painful past. It is up to her to ensure that the Varyar's last stand in Middle-Earth is successful and that the wrongs of the past are laid to rest. 10th Walker. Rated T for now.


**This is my first LOTR story, so I hope you all enjoy it! Constructive criticism are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any LOTR characters (unfortunately), though the OCs in this story are my own!**

Chapter 1: The Council of Elrond

The leaves in Rivendell swirled about in the breeze as riders came through the valley of Imladris from far and wide to attend the Council that Lord Elrond had called. Fair elves, noble men, and stout dwalves filled the hidden valley as they waited to give their tidings and seek knowledge in the coming of the dark times ahead.

Minutes before the council was about to start, four great steeds galloped into the courtyard of the Last Homely Home. Three men and a woman, for seemingly they are, with youthful faces and shining with inner lights, jumped down from their mounts.

"Lindir!" The leader of the riders, with his dark brown eyes gleaming as brightly as the golden spear strapped on his back, greeted the minstrel cheerfully. "Mae govannen, mellon nin."

"My lord Callo," Linidir bowed respectfully. "It has been far too long since you and your kin have graced these halls with your presence. Lord Elrond will be incredibly glad that you are able to attend this council."

"Indeed, for never had we so openly involved ourselves with those who are not the Firstborn. Yet Winyáron believed that it is time for us to once more to openly walk the Middle-Earth, for he fears that our time here, too is limited."

"Indeed?"

"You know how it is, for the lord often speaks in riddles, much as yours do," Callo said laughingly, before sobering. "I take it that the council is soon to start? For the missive we received indicated that the date is to be today."

"Yes, in fact you are just in time. I believe that the council members have already gathered."

"Ah," Callo smirked. "How I love to make an entrance. And what with legends coming to life for many of these attending, I should think that a dramatic entrance is required."

Lindir just laughed and shook his head, "Then please do allow me to direct you to the place the council is being held, for I would pay dearly to see the faces of the noble lords who are in attendance."

Deep in the beautiful gardens of the halls of Elrond one of the most important councils of the free folks was about to take place. Frodo at that moment felt thoroughly out of his depth. Not only did the One Ring weigh heavily on his mind and body, but he was surrounded by some of the most important people in Middle-Earth. As if he could sense Frodo's unease, Gandalf patted Frodo's shoulder reassuringly.

"Do not be overly distressed Frodo." The Istari murmured, and then his eyes suddenly lit up with a mysterious twinkle. "I am sure that this council will be more interesting than anyone has anticipated."

Just as Elrond opened his mouth to speak, the doors to the garden were suddenly flung open. In strode four people. The leading man, with dark brown hair and eyes of an even darker brown, dressed in a regal black tunic embellished with silver threads, commanded the presence of the room at once. The golden spear strapped to his back gleamed, both menacingly and reassuringly, in the afternoon sunlight.

"Ah, my lord Callo, I see that you have decided to join us. Your timing is as impeccable as always." Elrond greeted, seemingly unfazed with the interruption.

"I will pretend not to hear the sarcasm in your words Lord Elrond. As you can see, my kinsmen and I have arrived in time." He waved his had over the three new entrants to the room.

Frodo craned his neck slightly to get a look at the newcomers. The two men were identical, from their

light brown hair and icy blue eyes right down to the smirks they wore on their faces. The third person, however, Frodo was surprised to find, was a woman. Judging by the harsh mutterings that broke out between the men and the dwarves in the council, he was not the only one to be surprised, although the Eldar seemed suspiciously calm about the matter. Breathtakingly beautiful, were the words Frodo would use to describe the woman. Dark hair framed her face in soft curls, so black that it was almost blue in some places, reminding the little hobbit of the moonless midnight skies he would sometimes wander below in while he was at home in the Shire. But her eyes, in stark contrast, looked like pure liquid amber, and the faint glow surrounding her made Frodo think that she was one of the Eldar at first, yet her petite stature and her rounded ears clearly showed that she, nor any of her kin fair as they be, was not.

Without further introductions, the newcomers waled to stand behind a group of elves, dressed in brown and green.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old." Elrond began at last, his voice somber. "You have been called here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this one fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Elrond gestured.

Frodo swallowed nervously, and with trembling hands put the ring he had carried throughout the past few weeks on to the stone table. As he glanced up, he caught the eyes of the dark haired woman, who smiled at him warmly and reassuringly.

A man stood and whispered, "In a dream I saw the Eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'Doom is near at hand, Isildur's Bane is found.'." As if entranced, the man reached out for the ring. "Isildur's Bane."

"Boromir!" The Grey Wizard cried, and began chanting something in the Black Speech. Frodo cringed, and all he felt was an unending darkness pressing on his mind, before Gandalf ended his chant and his vision cleared to allow him to see light once more.

"Never before has any voice uttered words in that tongue in Imladris." Elrond remarked sternly.

"I do not ask for your pardon Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The ring is altogether evil." Gandalf sat back down, after directing a pointed glare at Boromir.

"Nay it is a gift!" Boromir exclaimed. Out of the corner of his eye, Frodo saw the four strangers exchange frustrated glances, and the lady rolling her eyes to the heavens in a very unladylike manner, which would have been hilarious if the situation had not been so serious.

"A gift to the foes of Mordor!" Boromir continued, oblivious to the not-so-subtle looks of exasperation directed his way. "Why not use this ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the ring! Let us use it against him."

"Have you not being listening at all to what Mithrandir have to say?" Snapped the dark haired lady, finally. "The ring of Sauron the Deceiver cannot be used by any but he alone. To keep the ring would be akin to keeping evil in these lands, and the Dark Lord would not rest until he has leveled Gondor to the ground to get his ring back."

"What would a woman know of the ring and war?" Boromir sneered.

"Much more than you think, Boromir son of Denethor. And I would be careful about claiming that it is the blood of your people that kept the lands safe. Many here have sacrificed much more than you could ever imagine to destroy Sauron." This time it was one of the pale brown haired twins who spoke in an even tone, though his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Indeed," murmured Callo. "For we are no mortal, Lord Boromir, and our kind have always been in the middle of the battles and wars against evil."

"Oh, really? Are you immortal? For you are no elves."

"I would guard your tongue if I were you, for you are ignorant in knowledge, and though I am no Firstborn of Illuvatar I have walked Middle Earth since the waking of the Eldar. Elves are not the only immortals to reside in these lands." Suddenly, wings sprung out of the back of the brown-eyed lord. As he spread them, Frodo saw that they were jet black in color. The edges of the feathers flickered, and the wings seemed to melt into shadows, so that only dark wisps of smoke remained in the shape of wings.

"Impossible." Frodo heard one of the dwarves mutter. "I thought they were gone from these lands long ago."

"What are they Gandalf?" Frodo asked.

"They, my dear hobbit, are the Varyar. Or as the elves call them, the Rámaquen, or the Winged-Ones. They are the protectors of Middle-Earth."

"So, you are the legendary race of warriors charged with protecting Middle-Earth?" Boromir sneered, after he had regained his voice from shock. "And you chose to hide all this time and leave the fighting to us? How very noble."

"We fought, oh how we fought for the protection of all races." Hissed one of the twins angrily, his hand drifting dangerously close to the hilt of the sword he carried on his back. "We just normally do not take our natural forms. You are starting to annoy me, Man of Gondor. I recommend you not to comment on matters that you know not."

"Peace, Aration." The winged lord said amicably, and then waved his hand. "Shall we go on?"

"As the lady said," Aragon said, interrupting before any more fights could break out, "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron along."

"And what would a mere ranger know of this matter?" Boromir added haughtily. The dark haired lady rolled her eyes once more.

"That is no mere ranger." A fair elf suddenly stood up. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked incredulously.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor."

"_Havodad_, Legolas." Aragorn said.

Glaring, Boromir muttered darkly, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"Aragorn and Eterúnamë are both right. We cannot use it." Gandalf reaffirmed.

"You have but one choice. The ring must be destroyed." Elrond announced.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" A dwarf asked gruffly, and before anyone could stop him, had smashed his axe down upon the ring. The ax shattered into many pieces, throwing the dwarf back onto the ground, but the ring remained intact. As the dwarf's brethren rushed to help him up, he saw the lady, Eterúnamë, raise an elegant eyebrow at one of the white haired dwarves.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess." Elrond said with a slight sigh.

"The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm in which it came." The elven lord looked around. "One of you must do this."

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Boromir began, and looked set to rant on before a loud and impatient sigh interrupted him.

"Yes, well, we all know that going to Mordor is not the same as going on a picnic to the Shire." Eterúnamë cut in.

"Well, if you think that then why do you and your brethren not fly into Mordor and drop the ring into the fires of Mount Doom? Or are you all talk and no real bravery?" Boromir snapped back.

"If we could do that, do you think we would not have gone long ago, son of Denethor? For death truly holds no fear for us. But the winged steeds of the Nazguls patrol the sky, and anything approaching in air would be seen by the great eye from a hundred leagues away, and we would be shot down and the ring back with Sauron before you can say 'stupid humans'. The only way for this mission to succeed would be for it to be undertaken in secret, for only then could we hope to avoid Sauron's ever-watchful gaze." Eterúnamë hissed.

"The fact of the matter is, the ring must be destroyed!" Legolas cried.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli yelled.

"And if we fail, what then? What if Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir demanded to no one in particular.

"Never trust an elf!" Gimli declared, and the room erupted into chaos. Elves, men, and dwarves were all shouting at each other. The four Varyar glanced tiredly at each other.

Frodo looked at the ring as he ignored the shouting. Finally he glanced up with a look of resolve, and met again the amber eyes of Eterúnamë. With a look of regret and encouragement, she nodded slightly at him, seemingly aware of what he was about to do.

"I'll take it!" He finally managed to force the words out in spite of his nerves.

"I will take the ring to Mordor." He said more loudly, when everyone ignored him. Gradually the din died down, and one by one the council members turned to look at the hobbit. He could sense Gandalf sighing slightly next to him.

"Though," he said as an afterthought. "I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear." The Grey Istari announced.

"By my life or death, if I could protect you, I will." Aragorn said. "You have my sword."

"And my bow." Declared the fair-headed Legolas, with his voice full of emotion.

"And my axe." Gimli grunted.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one." Boromir said, walking forward and kneeling before Frodo. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

The Varyar seemed to be having a silent conversation as they stared at each other up to this point, but finally Eterúnamë walked forward and smiled gently at the hobbit.

"My people's duty is to protect the free races of Middle-Earth, and even now we are preparing to go to war. Yet, you carry the heaviest of all burdens on your shoulders Master Hobbit, and I gladly lay down my weapons, just as I will gladly lay down my life should the need arise, in your service."

"Hey!" A voice cried out, and a curly-haired and stouter hobbit ran out behind a tall vase. "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"

"No indeed." Elrond said, amusement tugging at his lips. "It is impossible to separate you even when he is called to a secret council and you are not."

"Hey! We're going too!" Two more hobbits rushed in from the doors, where they had apparently been eavesdropping.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Besides, you need people of intelligence on this mission…quest…thing!"

Eterúnamë fought very hard to keep a straight face, and she glanced over at the twins who were openly grinning at the levity that the hobbits brought to the serious situation.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip!"

"So be it! Elrond announced. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great! Where are we going?"


End file.
